Psycho
First of all, I would like to state that I am not insane, deranged, unhinged, or mentally disturbed in anyway. The only reason I am here is because of a bomb. And the nightmares... but nobody knows about those.
1942, Enasni Psychiatric Hospital, Paldiski, Estonia
To be truthful, I didn’t hear the screams. My mind was still foggy from my recent dream. I could still hear his screams… but in reality, I was warm and safe, tucked away in the place between dreams; why should anyone be screaming? What was so terrible about this place? Suddenly, in reality, the door to my room burst open. Falling over each other, my four best friends, James, Walter, and Lewis, stumbled to my bedside, followed by Dr. Patel.
They all looked pale and disturbed, …show more content…
Walter was probably the least likely out of us to go out and make friends with another person. He was always quiet and introverted. It’s not that he was unkind or angry, he was just shy.
“Alright Walter. Just tell him not to say anything about it.” said James.
“I know.” replied Walter.
And then the day repeated the last. We ate a late breakfast, and took our medications. Soon after, Walter left us, presumably to talk to Peter. Sometime before diner he returned. He looked around the room and then slid us a piece of paper, and on it was a picture. A picture drawn by a madman.
The picture filled the entire scrap of paper. It had skin that was black and gray, and it was covered in deteriorating, black robes. It’s face was long and sorrowful, melancholy etched into it’s eyes. It’s mouth was opened wide, as if it was wailing in despair. It’s arms and legs were long and gangly, with hands and fingers sharpened into deadly claws. And it’s wings, black and broken, dragged along behind it. It was terrifying, so much so that it was hard to imagine anyone, anyone, ever creating such a thing. It was a monster. A monster made of shadows.
After we had all looked at it, Walter took back the paper, ripped it to pieces, and swallowed it. Destroying any evidence of our
First of all, I would like to state that I am not insane, deranged, unhinged, or mentally disturbed in anyway. The only reason I am here is because of a bomb. And the nightmares... but nobody knows about those.
1942, Enasni Psychiatric Hospital, Paldiski, Estonia
To be truthful, I didn’t hear the screams. My mind was still foggy from my recent dream. I could still hear his screams… but in reality, I was warm and safe, tucked away in the place between dreams; why should anyone be screaming? What was so terrible about this place? Suddenly, in reality, the door to my room burst open. Falling over each other, my four best friends, James, Walter, and Lewis, stumbled to my bedside, followed by Dr. Patel.
They all looked pale and disturbed, …show more content…
Walter was probably the least likely out of us to go out and make friends with another person. He was always quiet and introverted. It’s not that he was unkind or angry, he was just shy.
“Alright Walter. Just tell him not to say anything about it.” said James.
“I know.” replied Walter.
And then the day repeated the last. We ate a late breakfast, and took our medications. Soon after, Walter left us, presumably to talk to Peter. Sometime before diner he returned. He looked around the room and then slid us a piece of paper, and on it was a picture. A picture drawn by a madman.
The picture filled the entire scrap of paper. It had skin that was black and gray, and it was covered in deteriorating, black robes. It’s face was long and sorrowful, melancholy etched into it’s eyes. It’s mouth was opened wide, as if it was wailing in despair. It’s arms and legs were long and gangly, with hands and fingers sharpened into deadly claws. And it’s wings, black and broken, dragged along behind it. It was terrifying, so much so that it was hard to imagine anyone, anyone, ever creating such a thing. It was a monster. A monster made of shadows.
After we had all looked at it, Walter took back the paper, ripped it to pieces, and swallowed it. Destroying any evidence of our